CassaFire is on Fire!

Yesterday the blogosphere was buzzing with the CassaFire Blog Party and I wanted to keep the blaze going by continuing the celebration of CassaFire's book release with Alex J. Cavanaugh! Visit his site for more details.

So let's hear about Alex's novel:


CassaStar was just the beginning…


The Vindicarn War is a distant memory and Byron’s days of piloting Cosbolt fighters are over. He has kept the promise he made to his fallen mentor and friend - to probe space on an exploration vessel. Shuttle work is dull, but it’s a free and solitary existence. The senior officer is content with his life aboard the Rennather.


The detection of alien ruins sends the exploration ship to the distant planet of Tgren. If their scientists can decipher the language, they can unlock the secrets of this device. Is it a key to the Tgren’s civilization or a weapon of unimaginable power? Tensions mount as their new allies are suspicious of the Cassan’s technology and strange mental abilities.


To complicate matters, the Tgrens are showing signs of mental powers themselves; the strongest of which belongs to a pilot named Athee, a woman whose skills rival Byron’s unique abilities. Forced to train her mind and further develop her flying aptitude, he finds his patience strained. Add a reluctant friendship with a young scientist, and he feels invaded on every level. All Byron wanted was his privacy…


Available Now!
Science fiction - space opera/adventure
Print ISBN 978-0-9827139-4-5, $15.95, 6x9 Trade paperback, 240 pages
EBook ISBN 978-0-9827139-6-9, $4.99, available in all formats


CassaFire is the sequel to Cavanaugh’s first book, CassaStar, an Amazon Top Ten Best Seller:
“…calls to mind the youthful focus of Robert Heinlein’s early military sf, as well as the excitement of space opera epitomized by the many Star Wars novels. Fast-paced military action and a youthful protagonist make this a good choice for both young adult and adult fans of space wars.” - Library Journal



Buy CassaFire at:

Barnes and Noble
Amazon
Or Amazon Kindle

I wish Alex all the best on his book release!

I will always love you

Recently we heard about the demise of Whitney Houston. She died of drug use. She was 48.

A little while ago it was Amy Winehouse. She was 27 and a serial drug user and alcoholic.

Just a couple of years ago, it was Michael Jackson. He was 50 and he died of the drugs his own negligent doctor prescribed him.

Yet children today still think drugs are cool. Even after seeing how they've tortured and killed some of the worlds most genius talents, they think drugs are cool.

What is the matter with us that we still haven't managed to teach them otherwise? That we still haven't managed to teach them there is enjoyment in life without drugs and alcohol?

I'm not going to sit here and blame it on the celebrities. This problem is much bigger than them and I think that parents have a little more influence on their children then some poster or concert.

Could this problem be because we ourselves are so hopelessly dependent on drugs that our children look at us and see nothing but hypocrisy? We take drugs because our back hurts, we're overweight, we've got a cold, we're tired. It seems like there's a pill for everything and we line up to take them at the drug store like everyone else.

Could it be that we're teaching our children that drugs are the answer to our problems?

Could it be that children think: "Well, my parents take drugs all the time. Just because this drug is illegal, how is it any different?"

Recently, Alastair Campbell did a panorama documentary about alcohol use in the UK. He stated the recent statistics that every week one hundred people die of liver disease, a condition directly related to alcohol use.

This can't be because Amy Winehouse and celebrities like her drank. I won't swallow that. This is because all of the ADULTS in this country drink and they teach they're children that alcohol means having a good time. Just as their parents taught them and their parents taught them.

Result: 100 people dead every week from liver disease. So many more from drunk driving. So many more from drunken brawls. So many more from domestic violence. Some many children born defective because their mothers drank during pregnancy. So many children beaten by their drunken parents. So many lives ruined.

This isn't celebrity culture. It's OUR culture. It's OUR behaviour.

I'm not going to sit here and say that no one should drink or that no one should take medication. It's not my place to say that and we live in a society that is free. In fact, I think that making more laws about drugs or alcohol will only make the problem worse. After all, the laws we have now don't work so why would new ones? It would only put more power in the hands of the drug lords.

But I will say that people who watch the news over Whitney Houston and tut tut and say "Isn't it awful?" and "These celebrities are never going to change" are not seeing the full story. Celebrities are people just like you and me. They grew up in this culture just like you or me.

This is a problem that is caused by us and only we can do anything about it.

We tell our children that we will always love them. Whitney Houston sang a song about always loving someone, remember that? But how is it loving them to propogate a culture that can only harm them? And if we're so free in our free society then why can't we go one week without a beer? Why can't we get through one headache without breaking out the paracetamol? Why can't we prove to our children that they can enjoy life without being under the influence of some drug?

We're not free. And as long as drugs are the answer to our problems, we're not solving the problem.


*My blogger buddy Linda has been weighing in on this very subject on the New York Times. Go here to check out her blog post regarding it.

You've been waiting and waiting

This is part of my ongoing series on the Mahabharat, an epic poem of ancient India. For links to all previous Mahabharat posts go here. Or you can simply click on the Mahabharat page link above.


I know that it's been months since I posted anything to do with this series. My dear Mahabharat enthusiasts will not have been pleased. That's why I wanted you to know that next week there will be an announcement.

It'll be quite an event and you're all invited. There'll be music and cool costumes. And a chance to win a prize!

Since prize-giving is something I've never done before on this blog it's quite a decision for me. Hope you like it.

The reason why is that my first novel Follow the Cowherd Boy has now been published for over five years. I want to mark the occasion and at the same time give you a chance to engage in the stories of the Mahabharat that I've been telling here for over two years.

So I know you've been waiting ages but please wait a little longer. Be like Sahadev - of Great Fortitude.


Go here to see the next Mahabharat post.

My New Obssession

I had a post ready for you today but it was a bit risque and I didn't want to burn any sensitive ears. So I'm leaving that one for the fairies to giggle over while I tell you all about my new obssession.

GAME OF THRONES.

Those of you with HBO will probably know about the new series that started last year starring Sean Bean. It's based on George R. R. Martin's fantasy book series 'A Song of Ice and Fire' (ASoIaF for short) and is set in a type of medieval world with politics and complex characters and chivalry and betrayal.

Well, I watched the series when it came out and was instantly hooked by... Well, I won't lie. It was the character Khal Drogo (played by Jason Momoa) who hooked me. I just couldn't look away. But as the season unravelled I became more and more fascinated by the other characters - Jon Snow and Danaerys and Ned Stark and Tyrion. When the series ended on a major cliffhanger I was a nervous wreck!

So off I went to my friendly airport bookstore (yes, airport) and I bought the first book in the ASoIaF series. I read it and saw how faithful the series had been to the book except for a few minor details. I was very impressed. George Martin manages to write a fantasy epic in a way that totally draws you in because it's so realistic. He plays on the unrealiable narrator in every scene until the reader is guessing at the most basic things because you can't trust that what you hear from a character is the truth. Just like in real life. People see what they want to see and believe what they want to believe. The rest is up to you.

And while I began this obssession with Khal Drogo I am totally devoted to Jon Snow.

I've read all books in the series and am dying for the next book to come out! The problem is that George Martin is terrible at producing books on time. The last one (A Dance with Dragons) came out after a five year wait and I think the one before that (A Feast for Crows) was a six year wait. So all fans of this series are bracing themselves for a long haul until The Winds of Winter is finally in our hands.

Is anyone here a fan of this series? Do you have any complaints about it?

I do, (although that doesn't stop me from wanting to read the next book). I think that George Martin made some major tactical errors in his planning. He underestimated the time it would take to fully explore his characters complexities. He also screwed up in not fully considering the implications of his characters' ages when he first began ASoIaF.

I still love the books but reading them has also been a cautionary tale in how to plan a major project. Interesting, that.

That said, the HBO adaptation is showing the second season starting April 1st. Can't wait! My darling Jon Snow!

I love Currie

I recently found out on returning to the internet that someone I know and love dearly has started a blog! If you've already met him then this is a moot point, you'll know how awesome he is. But for those of you who are unaware of Jeff Currie, I must introduce you!

He's a talented writer, a cool musician, and a very effective crusher of cyber bullies. Believe me, I've seen him in action.

I've never met him in person yet I know I can tell him anything. Whenever I need a boost he's always got something motivating to say.

He's warm, genuine and a true friend. He'll always tell you the truth.

He's an independent publisher as well as being published in other ways. For any writer, he's someone you want to know.

So here he is: Jeff's blog.

Enjoy!

Snow

I've been worrying about all this recent travel but something happened a few days ago that gave me a new perspective.

It was late Thursday night and I was walking through the center of London, going from Victoria Coach Station to Victoria Tube Station. It was snowing. Freezing cold, I was bundled up in sweater and scarf and coat and two hats (yes two hats) and hood. I kept my head down as I studied the pavement under me, trying not to slip while still walking as fast as possible.

The snow was coming down in blizzard condition, thick and fast and blurry. It's only a short walk from the coach station to the tube but I was trying to make it as short as possible.

Then it suddenly occurred to me. For all that I was born in London, raised and educated here, with London stamped into the very fabric of my existence, I've never walked through the city center while it was snowing. This was the first time in my life I was experiencing it.

I looked up. The street lights gave the snow a mellow glow as it fell on the trees and lamp posts and stone porticos. The snowflakes twinkled as they flurried around the red double-decker bus that rolled past, like tinkerbells discovering a magical object. And as the flakes continued on down to the pavement, they hovered over the ground like fat white bees before dropping, becoming part of the blanket that covered everything.

Everywhere I looked white glowed at me. It was ethereal and real at the same time. Like I'd stepped into a fairytale that I knew was truth.

As I walked, my gaze followed the snowflakes on their path down to the pavement and I saw something else. I noticed that there were little dark objects that were moving over the ground. To my bemused mind I was thinking it strange that there were insects here in the middle of winter. But then the penny dropped and I realised that they weren't insects, they were the shadows cast by the snowflakes.

Shadows cast by snowflakes.

I stood frozen. Not once in my life had I considered that something so small - so temporal - might still be significant enough to cast a shadow.

The city of London that I knew so well - that was part of me - was teaching me something.

They say every flake is unique, that no two snowflakes look the same. But every snowflake follows the same path, falling from the sky amidst wind and rain and streetlamps and buses. They're buffeted from side to side by the currents around them yet still they fall, racing towards the inevitable.

Maybe we're all snowflakes. Destined to fall and in falling we buffet and flurry around all the things that pass us in life. But before we reach our journey's end we cast our shadow, a brief moment in time when we tell the world we existed. When our individuality triumphs and WE SIMPLY ARE.

And then we reach our brothers and sisters on the ground. We join together, mixing our unique selves to the mass of our brethren, becoming a part of the whole that we had only dreamed of before. In our very unity we fill the world with our glow. We blanket everything, connecting the tree to the bus, the wind to the wall, the streetlamp to the townhouse.

We become the world - so beautiful that it hurts to look.

As I stood there on a late London night, my breath frosting the air before me and the snowflakes settling on my eyelashes and lips, connecting me to the ground and the sky and the tree, I felt right. I felt at peace. I felt at purpose.